Yes, Mr President
by CourtRose
Summary: Of three things we can be certain. One, Bella Swan is the Press Secretary to the President. Two, she hated Edward Cullen long before he kissed her and three, things are only just heating up. Welcome to the White House. It's time to get down to politics.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:**** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**###  
**

Sometimes I go to the Arrivals gate at Dulles Airport, just to remind myself of what is good in this world.

Fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers and partners reunited.

The outpouring of emotions – love, happiness, joy and pleasure – is a beautiful thing. In the midst of all the war, grief and violence in this world, it reminds me that love is still alive.

It reminds me that, if you look for it, love is everywhere.

Love, actually, is all around.

**###**

**A/N:** Weeow! So I've started my first srs bizniz fic :) I hope you liked the little prologue enough to leave a review or subscribe to the story or give me a pimpage on twitter (courtrose112) or twilighted (CourtneyRose)! LMK whose POV you think this is written in or what you hope to read about in future chapters! I can't wait to get to know all of you :)

*Tentatively* I'll say I will post chapter 1 in one weeks time, as I already have a backlog of chapters but I'm a terrible procrastinator, like really, I deserve a gold medal for how good I am at it, so this may change.

Lastly, I just want to give a major, humongous, gigantic big hug to the readers who subscribed to me without reading a single word of this story. You do not know how much confidence this gave me during the weeks leading up to this day. So, thank you so much to: **nmk78**, **ntquiteanangel76**, **janeaustenfan1**, **HannahMacko**, **youstayclassytwifans**, **mandiemendez**, **raya31**, **mia-lynn88**, **rainbow18** and **BelovedSunshine**. 3


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:**** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Story Summary: **Of three things we can be certain. One, Bella Swan is the Press Secretary to the President. Two, she hated Edward Cullen long before he kissed her and three, things are only just heating up. Welcome to the White House. It's time to get down to politics.

**And onward with chapter one!**

**###**

"Green or blue, Kate?"

"Definitely the green, Edward. It matches your eyes," Kate replied after a quick glance in his direction. Edward wrapped the tie around his neck and began to tie it with fumbling fingers.

"Here, let me," Kate murmured, grasping the tie ends and quickly tying a Windsor knot.

"Thank you, Kate. I don't know what I would do without you," Edward said with a fond kiss on her cheek.

With a light-hearted smile, Kate gave Edward's arm a comforting squeeze. "It's going to be a good day today, Edward. I just know it," she said.

"Thanks, Kate," Edward said as he walked over to his desk by the bay window. "I only hope America agrees with you."

As much as he had tried, Edward had managed only a little more than three hours sleep the previous night. He had been restless with worry and fretful over the upcoming day's outcome. After finishing his final press conference before voting day, he had returned home early and had annoyed Kate to her wit's end by following her around while she dusted and picked up bits and pieces he had left lying around. She had eventually left him with a quick-heat spaghetti bolognaise and strict instructions to avoid the TV and radio and to get to bed early.

But after she had left the house was too quiet and even with the lights on every room, the night's darkness enveloped him like a smothering cloak. He made quick work of his spaghetti in silence before pacing through various rooms anxiously. Eventually, he took himself to bed and lay there waiting for sleep to come. When it would not, he imagined the forthcoming day, the possible ways it could play out. He tended to favour dire circumstances; letting his self-confidence take hit after hit as the image of his loss played out across his mind's eye. He knew it was unhealthy but it was an obsession – he had to see if he could take the pain of failure, he had to prepare himself.

Once, planning the future changes he could make and the ways he could better the world had helped quiet his mind, but not this night. He could not work past the mental barrier that was the 'if' of the next day. Finally, his brain exhausted itself of its constant state of worry and allowed him a restless, dreamless sleep.

Picking up a warm breakfast bagel and his briefcase from the kitchen bench, Edward jogged out the front door, calling out a quick 'see you later' to Kate. As was schedule, Joe was awaiting Edward's morning arrival; leaning casually against the silver, government-issue Cadillac.

"Morning, sir," Joe greeted in his usual cheerful manner.

"Morning, Joe. How's your wife?"

"Well, the doctor thinks that she's got a couple of days left. It's a couple of days too long if you ask her – she's ready to pop," Joe replied with a grin as he opened the door for Edward.

Climbing in, Edward smiled. Joe Ribecci had been Edward's driver and friend ever since he had moved across the country to Washington D.C. and begun his campaign. He had been a stable constant through the emotional, and often frenzied, ups and downs of the political race. Edward had always found comfort in his friendly smile and upbeat nature. After he returned from paternity leave, Edward had plans to arrange for Joe to become his permanent driver, if he was successful today. There it was again; the ever-present 'if'.

Edward gave one last glance back to his apartment. The refurbished Victorian era double-storey had comforted him and reminded him of home while he had been so far away from his family. His mother had made some slight adjustments but his choice of decor and furnishings had been perfect, she claimed. He had scoffed; he could never be the artist Esme had been, and still was, when it came to house design. Still, the gratification and pride she had bestowed upon him made his heart glad.

As they neared their destination, Edward's pulse began to climb steadily. His classically trained hands began tapping out a nameless tune across his thigh. Everyone had assured him that he was a shoo-in for the job. The other candidate was untrustworthy and had a generally poor reputation with the public.

_Even so_, Edward thought worriedly, _there have been occurrences, consequences in which a sure thing has turned out to be not so sure after all_. After voicing this doubt to his campaign manager, Jasper Whitlock, he had earned himself an upside slap on the back of the head. Edward had quickly learnt to keep his concerns and fears about the result to himself.

But now they repeatedly played on the forefront of his mind as they edged closer and closer to their destination through the Washington traffic. Had he done enough? Was there anything more he should have done or said? Another handshake? Another kiss for a baby's forehead? Would it be enough?

He attempted a deep, calming breath. It worked momentarily, allowing Jasper's voice to break through his cloud of confusion. With his deep Southern accent, Jasper's words of confirmation reverberated through his mind.

_Calm down, Edward. Stress is a catching emotion_, he would say with authority. Edward drew in another relaxing breath and let it exhale slowly from his lungs. _I am calm_, he told himself. _I am calm_.

From his briefcase, Edward's Blackberry beeped its message tone. After fiddling with the buttons, which were infinitesimally too small for his large hands, he managed to open a message from his brother, Emmett.

_Good luck bro, I voted for you ;)_

Edward smiled and let the wave of calm and familiarity that Emmett's text brought wash over him.

Emmett was a man of few words but Edward had learnt to understand the significance of each one. While the other kids at school had little time for Emmett outside of the sporting field, Edward sought Emmett's view on life, love and most importantly, politics. Emmett's tell-it-like-it-is attitude helped Edward clear his head in a world that was quite frankly, full of bullshit. As he was typing a short message in reply, Edward was momentarily waylaid by another incoming message. Finally, he managed to send a reply to Emmett and open another message from his mother.

_No matter what, your father and I are so proud of you, Edward._

Edward's heart warmed. His parents had always told their children – Emmett, Alice and himself - that they would support them in whatever career path they chose to pursue. That was not to say that Carlisle wasn't ecstatic to learn that Edward wanted to follow in his footsteps. When he exceeded Carlisle's own accomplishments, Edward had been relieved to know that his father's support was just as strong, if not more so, for his son's goals and achievements.

"We're here, sir," Joe said over his shoulder, interrupting Edward's reverie.

Glancing wordlessly up at the stone building, Edward swallowed nervously. Seeing Joe's concerned gaze from the corner of his eye, Edward decided that it was time. It was time to man up. The time for fear had passed. The time for being one amongst the masses was over. It was time to lead, to protect and to honour his country in one of the most powerful ways possible.

Reaching over to clap his hand on Joe's shoulder, Edward turned on his winning grin. "Thank you, Joe. For everything. Good luck to you and your wife," he said honestly.

"You too, Edward," Joe said with an honest smile.

Taking the door handle in one hand and his briefcase in the other, Edward took a deep breath and stepped in to the lion's pit.

**###**

**A/N:** So there we have it! Chapter One and a peek into the life of Edward. It's a little short but we are just getting warmed up :)

So far, I'm without a beta for this story, so if anyone in my readership has some beta experience and would like to assist, please shoot me a PM!

I will be posting a teaser for Chapter Two on the Fictionators 'Teaser Monday' so please look out for that :) [www(dot)fictionators(dot)com/search/label/teaser/]

Thank you a hundred times to those who reviewed the prologue and to everyone who subscribed and favourited this story – I hope you enjoy Yes, Mr. President :) I look forward to hearing what you thought of Chapter One and what you think might be coming up!


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:****All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**This is Bella's story from the same day.**

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**

Bella Swan was not having a good day.

Scratch that, this was the worst day of her life.

It had not looked promising when she had braved the early morning drizzle for her daily run.  
As she ran it subsequently became a torrential downpour – the type that she had left behind in Forks, or so she had hoped – resulting in a slow time and several near broken ankles on the slippery grass.

It had looked foreboding when the heel of her favourite pair of slate grey pumps snapped as she walked down the stairs – another near miss for her unfortunate ankles. After she realized that there was no milk for her cereal, she began to curse the gods for choosing today of all days for everything to go wrong.

But, Bella was determined to not let anything get the best of her today. She needed to stay calm and level-headed. She was going to need all her faculties about her today. _Calm and level-headed_. It was her mantra today.

**###**

First on Bella's agenda for the day was a press conference on behalf of the White House. It was purely a formality that was insisted upon, despite the fact that only a handful of people ever attended and even then the majority were bored rookies looking for the experience. Nothing got more on her nerves than when they snapped their gum and left their cell phones on loud. They had no respect for the integrity of White House media.

As she contemplated their blank stares and slack jaws, she struggled to maintain the tranquillity she had tried to muster on her morning commute. _Calm and level-headed_, she told herself again. _Calm and level-headed_.

At precisely nine in the morning she faithfully delivered her speech, displaying none of the irritability or boredom she felt. It was a skill that her colleagues admired her for and one that had made her one of the most sought after press and media experts in the industry.

It had surprised everyone when Bella had announced her intentions to study media and communications at college. They had not expected shy, quiet Bella to last five minutes under the spotlight of a camera, a recorder shoved up her nose.

But it was exactly there where Bella was in her element.

During the first public speaking class of her degree, the professor had, in an attempt to weed out the kids who were obviously way over their heads, picked on a petite brown-haired girl deliberately not making eye contact, and asked her to deliver a pre-prepared speech. Bella would not admit to anyone that even she had surprised herself when a wholly different Bella emerged when she took to the lecture and delivered the printed words in front of her with confidence and conviction.

The suitably taken aback professor had commended her and held her up as an example for the rest of the class. While she had body-blushed a flaming red as she took her seat, the experience had set her pulse on fire and the adrenaline pumping through her body. To this day, it was a high that she never got over.

From then on, Bella used her shyness to her advantage. Just as she had during that first class, she was often under-estimated and looked over, but when people saw her in front of the camera, they simply could not look away. She was captivating while managing to remain neutral on complex issues, could pull off any look and set the tone for any media appearance with ease.

After graduating college with honours, Bella was offered a job with the local mayor's office where she thrived. By the next election she had worked her way to the top and successfully headed the press department, contributing majorly to his return to office. During her time with the mayor, she realized that it was within political media where she really wanted to work.

When she felt she could do no more in Boston, she moved herself to Washington D.C., which is, of course, the heart of American politics and its press.

Bella quickly found work at a well-known financial firm which, while not politics, earned her a good reputation around town. When she was approached by the White House to head up their press department, it was a dream come true.

As she returned to her office in the West Wing, Bella contemplated the rest of her day. She would be attending the traditional lunch with the current outgoing President and White House staff. She had been asked to deliver a short speech detailing her time with the President; it was a great honour and she had spent a long time constructing a spiel that she thought was both touching and humorous.

Later, she had to visit the vying political parties before they moved their operations to the White House for the final count. She needed to brief their Chiefs of Staff on the procedure should their candidate win, and also the procedure should their candidate lose. There would be nothing worse than the next morning's headlines screaming about a sore loser lashing out instead of an inspiring picture of the happy, waving new President.

Then, she would return to the White House and watch the broadcast of the final count until the name of the new President of the United States was announced. There would be a quick press conference congratulating the new President she would have to deliver but afterwards, her work would primarily entail preparation for the incoming President and his arrival.

And depending on the outcome of the night, Bella doubted that his arrival would be something she would be looking forward to.

**###**

The magic of Bella's mantra was lessening. It hadn't helped when the first candidate, James Hunter, had given her the sleaziest of looks and suggestive remarks that had made her skin crawl, and then when the chauffeured car blew out a tyre. _Just fucking great_, she had thought to herself.

As the car approached Tudor Place in Georgetown, anxiety began to take over. That made Bella pissed. Why should she feel anxious and nervous about seeing him? He was a good-for-nothing douche who didn't deserve the time of her day, let alone America's.

She began recounting the reasons she had to hate him and by the time they stopped outside the crowded gates, Bella was fuming; her mantra long forgotten. As she pushed her way through the enthusiastic supporters, her anger flared as they cheered and catcalled excitedly for the very man that she hated with a passion.

Bella stopped outside the front steps and scrolled through her iPhone contacts until she reached Jasper Whitlock, her PR and Media contact within the Democratic Party. Just as she was about to press 'call', her phone began chirping its Kim Possible ringtone. While it might seem childish, Bella had loved the show as a child and today, wouldn't change the channel if it happened to be on TV. She had always been enamoured with the naivety and uncomplicated happiness of children and she loved how entertained they could become with the simplest of characters and jokes. Their belief in the joy of pretty much everything was something she tried achieve herself.

Well, when she wasn't trying to channel her anger away from physical violence, that is.

Angela Weber's picture flashed on the screen and Bella breathed a relieved sigh. Finally, someone who could understand her rage. Angela, apart from Rosalie, was the only other person to know the entire story behind her resentment.

"Hey Ange," she said happily.

"Hey Bella. How are you holding up?" Angela questioned knowingly.

"Not so good," Bella admitted. "It's just a little hard when everyone is so in love with him and all I want to do is wrap my hands around his throat," she said through gritted teeth.

Angela didn't speak for a moment, silently communicating to Bella that she was being slightly overdramatic.

"I know, Ange! It's just...," she groaned, rubbing her temples. "It's just really hard. Every time someone mentions him or I think about working for him, I remember everything that he did and how much hurt he caused and I just get so fucking mad!"

"Have you thought about how you're going to be when you're working with him? Seeing him every day, having to talk to him?"

"I swear to God, Ange, if that bastard wins tonight, I'll quit," Bella spat angrily into her phone.

"Surely he can't be that bad. You've worked so hard to get this job," Angela replied.

"Of course he is. You remember what I told you, right? He's a class-A fucking dickhead." Her phone buzzed with the calm voice of her friend. "Edward fucking Cullen can go to fucking hell. I hate him and I'm hoping like hell that he loses tonight. I-"

"Excuse me," a Southern male voice came from behind her, followed by a tap on her shoulder. Bella whirled around in surprise before whispering, "Gotta go, talk to you later," into her phone. She switched off her phone slowly and took her time looking the man in front of her in the eye.

"Mr. Whitlock," Bella said, blushing while trying to control her expression. Jasper Whitlock was the candidate - Edward Cullen's - best friend and campaign manager.

"Miss Swan."

Her name carried many implications. His inquisitive and slightly disapproving look told her that he had heard everything she had said.

"Was that Edward you were just talking about? Surely he isn't that bad..."

_Ugh_, Bella thought, _that is so typical. Defend the bastard. I bet they have no fucking idea._

"I'm sorry, can I help you with something Mr. Whitlock?" she said primly; completing ignoring his statement and unspoken request to explain herself.

Jasper's face twisted into a confused frown. "I was wondering if I could have a word with you about-"

"No, I'm afraid you can't. I'm extremely busy at the moment." _God, I'm such a bitch_, Bella thought to herself. She would just email the information she had wanted to tell him.

Now his eyes darkened and his voice lowered. "Is there something I can clear up for you, Miss Swan?"

She let her expression remain blank, as if she were speaking at a press conference. "Let me assure you, Mr. Whitlock, there is nothing left to clear up. Everything is crystal," Bella replied before haughtily storming off to her car.

_Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit_, she thought to herself. _So much for calm and level-headed. I've never been that rude to anyone before. I thought I could keep it together so well. And now I've gone and lost it at the person who I could be working with for the next four years about the person who I might be working for, for the next four years. _

Bella began to regret her words as she hopped inside the car. A great sense of foreboding filled her stomach, matched with dread for the coming night's result and the subsequent, possible repercussions of her actions.

She had no idea.

**###**

**A/N:** My apologies for the day and a half lateness of this chapter. A mixture of RL and other fic commitments contributed, but we're here now! Thank you to everyone who has subscribed, favourited and reviewed over the past week! I got a huge response from posting a teaser on The Fictionators 'Teaser Monday' so I will definitely be doing that again!

I am still looking for a beta, so if anyone has any experience or thinks that they could work with my chapters – please contact me!

Please leave a review and tell me what you thought about this chapter! I will review reply to everyone who reviews with a **unique** **teaser** – one that is completely different to the one I will be posting on The Fictionators. Thanks to everyone who has read this chapter!


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:****All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

Big, big thanks to Karie (**SweetVenom69**) who has graciously offered to be my beta, MWAH BB!

**###**

_Taking the door handle in one hand and his briefcase in the other, Edward took a deep breath and stepped in to the lion's pit. _

"Mr. Cullen!"

"What do you think your chances of winning are today?"

"Mr. Cullen, have you seen the latest polls?"

"Edward!"

The most prominent voice was comfortingly familiar.

"Jasper," Edward sighed thankfully as he reached out to give his best friend and campaign manager a hug amidst the shouts and camera flashes of the journalists. Jasper grasped his hand and slung an arm around his shoulder in a display of comaraderie that was both for the press and for Edward's nerves.

Leaving the reporters in their wake, the men walked side by side, heads bowed in discussion.

"How was your morning?" Edward asked.

"Shocking, but nothing you need to worry about," Jasper replied.

"Jazz, I want to know-"

"But you know I'm not going to tell you. Stress is a catching emotion and if I worry you, the public will feel your tension and this can all go down the shit hole. Is that what you want?"

"Jasper, you know-"

"That's what I thought," Jasper said as they stepped inside the building. "Now just through that door is where you'll need to wait," he instructed, pointing to the left. "Lunch will be brought at 12:30 and an early dinner at 5. I'll be through here with the team so if you need anything just message me," he said, holding up his own Blackberry.

Edward struggled momentarily, not wanting to be rendered useless while thousands of volunteers and members of the party worked tirelessly for him. One look at Jasper's warning face told him that he did not have a choice.

With a resigned sigh, he asked what time the announcement would be made.

"The first will be at 6 tonight," came Jasper's over the shoulder reply as he entered the room on the right. A burst of yells, news broadcasts and general chatter intruded on the silence of the hall as Jasper entered the nerve centre of the party. It abruptly cut off with the closing of the large wooden door and Edward was left in the eerie quiet.

"Why couldn't I have just stayed at home?" he grumbled to himself, slouching his shoulders and pouting his bottom lip in an exaggerated sulking pose as he walked towards the room that was to be his cell for the day.

Flopping down on the over-stuffed couch, he surveyed the room. It was elaborately furnished with luxurious curtains flanking the floor-to-ceiling windows and various antiquities lining the various tables along the walls. The walls were embellished with light pink flowers with pastel green stems over a cream background. The curtains were adorned with gold tasselled ties and the walls and ledges had gold finishings. It was obviously professionally decorated, although a little flashy for his usual tastes - which he had inherited from his mother. He had often perused the pages of her catalogues and portfolios, admiring her talent for restoring old homes and room decoration. She ran an interior design business out of Seattle, close to their family home which was situated on the outskirts of the city.

Before he began to feel homesick, Edward pulled out his Blackberry. Pulling up his contacts, Edward scrolled down to his sister's name and pressed 'call'.

"Alice."

"Hey, Al," Edward greeted.

"Hey, Edward. How are you? Are you nervous yet?" she replied and he could hear her smiling through the phone.

"No," he answered, drawing it out in a long exhale. "Not really. Alright, a little bit. Jasper's not letting me help or do anything remotely interesting."

"Don't whine to me about Jasper, I'm not getting involved," Alice replied with finality.

Edward grumbled under his breath. "Hey, why don't you and Charlotte come down and entertain me? I'm going to go stir-crazy alone in this prison that Jasper's stuck me in."

She sighed. "Sorry Edward, no can do. I've got to work on some fabrics and designs for the next collection. But Charlotte misses you, it's been too long."

Edward reluctantly murmured his agreement. He missed Charlotte too. She was the light of his life; his precious angel. He didn't know that he could love anyone as much as he had loved her the moment she had first been placed in his arms.

"I saw you on CNN last night," Alice said before pausing. Edward sensed a critique about his clothing coming on.

"I don't know how many times I've told you that you can't wear that horrendous red tie with the grey Calvin, Edward! It just doesn't work. The flow of the suit is all wrong compared to the tie, the colours barely match and you look plain awkward with the shape of the two together!"

Edward waited.

"Are you finished?" he asked tentatively.

"Yes," Alice huffed in reply after an irate pause.

"Well, no one, except you, is going to vote or not vote for me based on what I wear. There are more important things in life than the 'flow of a suit', Ali," he lectured back.

"Edward, just listen to me! I bet there are hundreds of people who will take one look at their voting slip and just tick the box for whoever looks better! You can't expect everyone to understand your healthcare reform or international policy," Alice replied.

"Alice, I'm fairly sure we've had this discussion before, which is why I let you supervise my clothing, hair and make up for the major photoshoots, interviews and press conferences."

"You didn't tell me you were going on CNN! I could have organised something for you!"

"It was a last minute opening, I barely had time to go home and change."

"So you willingly chose those clothes to wear?"

"No, a member of the opposition forced me to commit a fashion faux pas the night before the election," he said sarcastically. "Of course I chose them myself!" Alice huffed impatiently.

Their good-natured banter continued for a few more minutes before Edward reaffirmed his promise to let Alice choose his outfits for any upcoming media appearances.

"Well, I've got to get going," Edward ended, unable to take anymore of his sister's questioning about what he was currently dressed in.

"Okay, I'll pop by your house and sort out a couple of outfits for you later. Good luck, Edward."

He rolled his eyes. "Thanks Alice. Bye."

Edward clicked off the phone and cradled it in his hands. 12:05pm, the bright display read. Edward's stomach growled loudly as his brain contemplated the twenty-five minute wait until his lunch would be brought in.

Sighing loudly, he reached for one of the large files Jasper had left him to study in preparation for his tasks for the next couple of weeks.

"The economic situation experienced a large number..." he began to read aloud under his breath.

**###**

Right on 12:31pm, the lunch lady burst through the door at the end of the room, pushing a trolley of sandwiches and fruit juices. Edward's mouth watered at the thought of food but he managed to keep his drool to himself as the frumpy looking woman ever so slowly made her way over to Edward's spot on the couch.

Serving up a plate of dull looking mini-sandwiches and a hunk of burnt cheese and sauce that Edward suspected was a lasagne, the lunch lady remained expressionless and wordless as she passed him a Styrofoam cup of weak cordial before making her way out of the room. Watching her retreating figure, Edward sighed and looked back to his listless lunch. Poking at it tentatively with a fork, he was reminded of his school lunches back at Scotch College.

Before he launched into a long reverie about his school days to pass the time, the door opened behind him.

"How's it going, Edward?"

"Jasper!" Edward cried happily as he leapt up from the couch.

"Happy to see me, are you?" Jasper laughed.

Edward just groaned in response as he flopped back down on the couch.

"What? All work, no play too much for you, buddy?"

Edward rolled his eyes. "I've been cooped up in here for _hours_. I've been starving for _hours_ and now that I've got _this_ food, I've lost my appetite," he complained.

Jasper smiled wanly and rolled his eyes before pulling out his Blackberry. "Will a pizza fix this little mood you're in?"

Edward's face lit up with a little kid's grin and Jasper pressed 'call'.

**###**

**A/N:** I want to give a massive shout out to everyone who reviewed, favourited and alerted YMP over the past week! The response has been absolutely phenomenal and I have a little fangirl moment each time an email pops up in my inbox!

Please let me know if you reviewed and didn't receive a response from me – I will make it up to you ;)

Just a clarification, a couple of readers have asked me how old the gang are. Can you believe I lost the piece of paper that had my timeline on it? But I did it again (cos I love you guys ;)) and here it is: Edward is 30, Bella is 29, Alice is 28 and Jasper is 35. I will add in the ages of other characters when we are introduced to them – don't want to give away too much just yet!

On a serious note, please know that this story is not going to be completely factual/true to the American political system. I am not American, I'm Australian and our political systems are quite different – as is true, I'm sure, for many of my readers. I am going to try as hard as I can to make YMP as authentic as possible but there are events/things I'm going to construct to suit the purposes of the plot. That said, I will try to acknowledge events that probably don't occur in the White House and do not coincide with the American constitution. Such as Edward's age. President's have to be 35 years of age before they can run for office and Edward is only 30. I am sure everyone will still enjoy my story, no matter what the setting. However, if there are any political experts out there reading, get in contact! I would love to hear about things that will make my story more genuine.

Same deal this week, **you review and I'll send you back a teaser** ;) And don't forget to look out for a different YMP teaser on the Fictionators 'Teaser Monday'!


	5. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** **All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

Thanks be to Karie (**SweetVenom69**), who is not only my super awesome grammar and spelling ninja, but my incredibly smart and knowledgeable math beta! I'd be a _pulsating_ mess without you, bb! ;) Also big thanks to **Burntcore** for her government/election advice :)

**###**

_Jasper smiled wanly and rolled his eyes before pulling out his Blackberry. "Will a pizza fix this little mood you're in?"_

_Edward's face lit up with a little kid's grin and Jasper pressed 'call'. _

"We're ready for you, sir," a female called from the main door of Edward's waiting room.

He jumped from the couch and stood in front of the small mirror above the vanity unit. He refrained himself from cheering with glee; he was finally free of the dreaded room. After lunch he had managed to work through the stack of files Jasper had left and a whole medium sized pizza which had satiated his hunger nicely. He smoothed down his fresh, Alice-approved suit and tie with a smile and happily walked out of the fondly nicknamed 'holding cell'.

As Edward jauntily strolled out of the building he spotted Jasper, who looked significantly tired and at his wit's end, throwing his hands up in the air and talking in hushed whispers with a brown haired woman. She was glaring angrily at him and Edward watched as she threw her hands up exasperatedly and stormed off in the direction of a waiting car.

Edward jogged down the remaining steps and placed a hand on Jasper, who wheeled around in surprise.

"Hey Jazz, who was that?"

"Ugh, no one you want to know, trust me," he replied darkly.

"It didn't look like things were going well between you two," Edward said lightly, subtly trying to weasel any scrap of information from his campaign manager.

"You got that right. She'll be your press secretary if all goes well tonight," he huffed, "All the more to you if you can manage to wrangle her, Edward." His tone was ominous and filled Edward with a strong feeling of foreboding.

_Oh God_, Edward thought, _being locked up in that room has turned me loopy_. _What_ _could be ominous and foreboding about a press secretary?_ He chuckled to himself for being so silly. He was, almost certainly, about to be named President of the United States. He could handle a little stress and a fiery Press Secretary. He smiled and walked, surrounded by his Secret Service escort, to the waiting car which would take him to his future.

**###**

"Mr. Cullen! Mr. Cullen!" The press were worse here, creating a 100 people-strong crowd around the black Chrysler which had driven Edward and Jasper to the White House. Edward stepped out of the Town Car and into a small pocket of secured space, created by the Secret Service agents assigned to protect him. The pulsating masses had Edward's heart racing as he and Jasper were led through the tightly pressed bodies; their anticipation and excitement was contagious. They were ushered through the flock of supporters and into a back entrance which, in turn, led to another small room, similar to the one that had ensnared Edward for the best part of the day.

It was unfortunate that the parties had had to move their operations to the White House but a serious security threat on the Republicans during the campaign had resulted in increased Secret Service representation and a tightening of protection around the potential Presidents. They were allowed fewer members and supporters in the House during the announcements and there was a blanket ban on media crews and reporters.

"Oh Jasper," Edward groaned, "Please don't tell me I have to stay in here."

"Calm down, it's just for hair and makeup." Edward paled. "Don't give me that face, Edward, you're going to be on T.V, you know how it works."

"But Jasper..." Edward started to whine, tousling his hair. "They'll try and do something with my hair. You remember what happened last time!"

Jasper just rolled his eyes and ushered in a pair of beauticians who each assessed Edward's face with a critical eye before barking instructions to each other in Russian.

"I'll be back in half an hour, Edward. Don't cause a scene," Jasper warned before leaving the room.

Edward looked hesitantly at the two women who were standing in front of him, brushes and face creams raised threateningly.

**###**

"Oh my word, don't you look pretty!"

"Jake!" Edward cried, spinning around happily to face his running mate, Jacob Black, before registering his words and assuming a scowl. "Why aren't you all dolled up like this?"

"I have natural beauty apparently," he said, patting his cheeks jokingly.

Edward rolled his eyes. "How's it looking so far?" he asked, his tone now serious.

"The polls still say we'll take Indiana, but we can't count on that until we get the official votes. Florida, Kentucky, I don't know. We can't expect any results from Vermont until after 9pm. They'll get their shit together, always do," Jake replied. Edward waited for him to go on.

Jacob gave him a knowing glance, before zipping his lips. Edward sighed and looked at his watch. "Have you come to take me to Jasper?"

"Yep, I've got strict orders to make sure that you walk through those doors at 5:55pm sharp, so we better get going."

"Well, let's go!" said Edward eagerly, with a quick, cautious look back at the Russians who were glaring back at their unfinished work on his face.

Since the press weren't allowed within the House, the journey to the room candidates were allocated for election night was quiet. Edward was in a hurry to get in the midst of things; that was where he thrived. Bursting through the doors, Edward was greeted by thunderous applause from all the volunteers who momentarily stopped their work to thank and encourage their leader. Edward was humbled by their intense display of devotion.

"Thank you for your support and hard work. This, I, am nothing without you," Edward called out to them quickly with a nod of his head before hurrying over to join Jasper. Jasper was standing in front of a large plasma screen television, intently watching the election night broadcast, hosted by Richard Jones.

"What's happening?" Edward asked quietly.

"He's about to cross to Indiana," Jasper replied shortly.

A short volunteer with a large clipboard and set of headphones heard Jasper's words and started calling out frantically for quiet.

"_We are now joined by our live reporter in Indiana. Elizabeth, we believe they are about cast their vote?"_

"Good _evening, Richard. Yes, it does look like Indiana will cast their vote, but we do know that traditionally the initial count will be too close to call. I believe the Senator has...yes_," the reporter nodded in agreement with the person on the other end of her headset, "_Indiana has called that their vote is too close to call at this stage_," she said into the camera.

A collective, exasperated sigh erupted from the silent room as people turned to each other to exchange worried looks about the closeness of the election so early in the night.

"You've got nothing to worry about, Edward," Jasper said comfortingly as he placed his hand on Edward's shoulder.

"I know," said Edward simply, before turning back to the broadcast.

"_Well, an expected call from Indiana, we now cross to Kentucky_," Richard said.

"_Yes, Richard, Kentucky has also called the vote too close to split at this stage_," the man reported from outside a Town Hall building in Kentucky. This time people had not even bothered to stop working to hear that there was no good news.

"_Thank_ _you, Chris. While we were visiting that broadcast, we also received word that Florida has also not closed their vote, so we will be revisiting them later in the broadcast as well_," Richard said.

Jasper clenched his fist and turned away from the screen.

"_Wait! It seems that we have a result!_" Richard cried excitedly. Jasper's sharp intake of breath echoed around the room as it had become deadly silent while everyone focused on the incoming live feed.

"_We_ _have a result from Vermont! Lucy, can you tell us what has happened in Vermont?_" Richard called into the camera.

"_Yes Richard,__ Vermont__ has called for James Hunter! Vermont has voted for the Republican, James Hunter!_" A collective groan erupted from the room. Edward ran his hand through his hair nervously.

The lady with the large headset and clipboard pulled out a megaphone that had appeared from nowhere, calling out to the disheartened volunteers,

"Come on people! Let's keep it together, we still have time! Pick up those phones and get people voting for Cullen! Cullen! Cullen!" she cried enthusiastically, trying to start a chant. Unfortunately for Edward's embarrassment, people decided to catch on and soon the room was cheering happily and shouting, "Cullen! Cullen!" Thankfully, Jasper waved his hands for them to quiet down as Richard was coming back on the air.

"_Welcome_ _back, viewers. If you're just joining us this evening, Vermont has registered their vote for James Hunter and so far no votes for Edward Cullen and the Democrats. We will now be rejoined by our live reporter in Kentucky. How is it going down there?_"

"_Well, Richard, in a surprising vote, __Kentucky __has called for Cullen with..._," the rest of the reporter's spiel was interrupted by the jubilant roar of the volunteers and Jasper, who punched the air excitedly and letting out an exultant gruff shout. Edward smiled happily, looking around and basking in the joy. He was suddenly overcome by an immense feeling of pride; with his party and within himself. Before he started getting all emotional, Edward turned back to the television screen. A different reporter was talking to the screen, but he couldn't make out what he was saying.

Grabbing the megaphone off the lady with the head set, who was currently sobbing all over an awkward looking Jasper, Edward turned on the siren switch.

After the volunteers had sufficiently quietened down, Edward switched on the speaker, "Thank you everyone for your support but I think another result is about to be called," he said before flicking it off and handing it back to the lady. She snatched it back possessively, her tears of joy for Edward's victory forgotten the moment he had taken her prized megaphone. Chuckling to himself, Edward turned back to the television.

"_Yes Richard, Cullen is currently leading the votes 8 to 3. West Virginia will announce, oh yes, it appears that...Yes! Cullen has also claimed West Virginia!_" the reporter cried, the result coming through midway through her address.

"_Thank you, Anne_," said Richard as the vision returned to him in the studio, "_Currently, Cullen leads James, 13 to 3. We now cross to South Carolina with Sandy_."

"_Hello, Richard. This evening South Carolina has called for Cullen as their man. He now leads the votes 21 to 3._" The night wore on and the votes began to come in hard and fast.

"_Good evening, Richard. Tonight, Connecticut calls for Cullen!_"

"_Our smallest state, Delaware has called for Cullen!_"

"_Richard! D.C. wants Cullen!_"

"_Illinois votes for Cullen!_"

"_Maine has called for Cullen, Richard. He now leads the votes 59 to 3; it doesn't look as if James is going anywhere tonight._"

"_Maryland for Cullen!_"

"_Massachusetts for Cullen!_"

"_And for only the second time tonight, New Hampshire goes to Hunter!_"

"_Again, James gets New Jersey!_"

"_Oklahoma wants Cullen!_"

"_Cullen gets Tennessee!_"

"_Richard, Cullen has won Pennsylvania!_"

"_Not a surprise for Arkansas! The state has gone to Hunter!_"

"_Alabama has gone for Hunter!_"

"_Richard, Kansas has called for James Hunter!_"

"_The strong surge for Hunter continues, Richard, with Michigan finally calling for the Republican!_"

"_Minnesota falls to Hunter!_"

"_New York, in a harsh blow for Cullen, calls for Hunter!_"

"_Rhode Island becomes a small victory for Cullen!_"

"_Texas wants Hunter!_"

"_Finally some good news for Cullen in Wisconsin!_"

"_Wyoming wants Cullen!_"

"_Georgia for James Hunter!_"

"_A big win for Cullen in Ohio!_"

"_Another win for the Democrats in Louisiana!_"

"_Hunter takes New Mexico! The votes now stand at 166 to Cullen and with the help of a late surge, 155 to James. This is shaping up to be the tightest race in history, Richard!_"

"_Mississippi has gone to Hunter; he's closing the gap._"

"_Iowa extends Cullen's lead!_"

"_North Dakota calls for Hunter_!"

"_Utah votes for Cullen!_"

"_South Dakota also goes to Hunter!_"

"_And now, the vote that is sure to put either party in reach of the win, California! California has gone to Cullen!_"

"_Hawaii goes to Cullen, as well!_"

"_It looks as if Cullen will go for the win as Idaho calls for Cullen!_"

"_Oregon wants Cullen!_"

"_Cullen's home state, Washington votes for their favorite son!_"

"_Nebraska calls for Cullen!_"

"_In an upset, Florida has voted for Hunter!_"

"_Arizona has fallen to Hunter!_"

"_In a late bid for the victory, Colorado has voted for Hunter!_"

"_And Nevada calls for Hunter!_"

"_Alaska, in a very late vote, has called for Hunter!_"

"_Indiana calls for Hunter!_"

"_Montana wants Hunter!_"

"_North Carolina calls for Hunter._"

"_And the penultimate vote is in from Missouri. They have voted for Hunter!_"

"_Well, America_," Richard began, "_It has been a close race all night and in a never before seen event, the scores are tied. There is five deciding votes from the fine folks in Virginia. We will now join Rita in Virginia where the deciding vote is about to be cast. Rita, how are things shaping up down there?_"

"_Good evening, Richard, I can tell you for certain that the eyes of the United States are firmly fixed upon Virginia tonight, as our government officials count and recount the votes to ensure that the final vote reflects the true intentions of our great state_," said the reporter. "_We can expect the vote any minute...wait! Yes, it appears we have an official result! We will now cross live to the Town Hall where the election official will officially announce the winner of the greatest race America has ever seen!_"

"_My fellow Americans_," the election official from Richmond, Virginia began, "_I believe it falls to me to announce the fate of two fine, honourable gentlemen, both who have had the opportunity to present themselves as the worthiest applicant for the most important job in the United States of America. The single vote that will decide whose name will go down in history books, whose name will be remembered forever more, whose name will be on the lips of all Americans tonight, is here, in this envelope_."

Edward groaned; the election official liked to talk. He would be lapping up every moment of his fifteen minutes of fame, meanwhile, Edward teetered on the brink of sanity cliff; the one that stood before the abyss of madness. Edward ran his hand through his already tousled hair.

"_So, to the owner of the name that I hold here in my hand, let me be the first to congratulate you, sir. It is the great honour of the Commonwealth of Virginia, the 10th state in the Union, to announce that it votes for_," the elected official boasted happily, ripping open the envelope, "_Edward Cullen_!"

The world was silent for Edward Cullen as the men and women of his party burst into noiseless triumphant cheers around him. Edward's eyes left the television screen that played jubilant pictures of fellow Democrats celebrating their victory and turned to face Jasper who was excitedly high-fiving and hugging every volunteer who had abandoned their posts and had created an eager circle around both of the men.

When Jasper finally turned to congratulate Edward, it hit him. He had done it. He had beaten James, albeit by two votes, but he had done it. It was up to him now. Everything was up to him. Finally, his emotions caught up with him. Jasper threw his arms wide and Edward grabbed him around the waist. Edward could feel Jasper's joyful tears splash against his cheek and Edward couldn't help but laugh at his best friend. He grabbed Jasper's shoulders and pulled them so Jasper could face him.

"We did it!" Edward cried elatedly.

"We did it!" Jasper managed to reply through his overwhelming emotions.

Edward turned to the volunteers, "We did it!" he hollered. They responded with ecstatic cries of repetition and Edward began to embrace everyone and anyone within an arm's reach.

**###**

Not far away from where Edward Cullen was rejoicing, Bella Swan switched off her television set and leaned back in her chair. She pushed the heels of her hands against her face and groaned.

"Just fucking great."

**###**

**A/N**: Apologies for the update fail, RL sucks. Thank you for the awesome reviews, favourites and alerts I got for the last chapter, I have the best readers! :) As always, look out for a YMP teaser from the Fictionators 'Teaser Monday' (link on my profile) and everyone who reviews will receive a unique teaser and I've got something extra special for you this week ;)


	6. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:****All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

Thanks to Karie (**SweetVenom69**), my super beta :)

**###**

_Fuck my life_, Bella thought angrily as she squinted in the early morning light, _fuck my fucking life_.

Isabella Swan's reactions to the events of the previous night were quite unlike that of the partying Democrats and overwhelmed Edward Cullen. While he had had his fingers crossed for his own name to be read out, Bella was praying for James Hunter. Not that she liked James Hunter; not by any stretch of the imagination. It was just that she disliked Edward Cullen a little more.

_Maybe dislike was the wrong word_, she mused. It was more like an intense, burning desire to see his mutilated corpse thrown into the pits of Hades; the way she felt towards the new President. _Yes, that was putting it nicely_, she thought to herself.

As she turned on her side and threw her duvet over her head, she wondered why she had even agreed to another term when she knew full well there was a chance he would be working alongside her. _Why, why, why?_ she thought as she thumped her pillow. _Why was she so stupid?_

Deciding that sleep had well and truly evaded her out the slowly brightening window, Bella swung her feet onto the floor. Combing through her sleep induced fuzz; she walked to her bathroom mirror and peered blearily at her reflection. She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders determinedly. _Edward Cullen be damned_, she thought, she was Bella Swan, _she could do anything_. Pulling on some running shorts and a singlet top, Bella left her bad mood behind her and jogged out of her Georgetown house.

The air was still fresh and a slight breeze was blowing along the tops of her oak tree lined suburban street. Taking a right, Bella ran through the day's agenda. Today was the President's first day in office. The moving van with his necessary belongings would arrive at the White House at 6am, but would not need to be unloaded until 7:30am which was when she would arrive to oversee the furniture placement. A personal staff had not yet been arranged for President Cullen, who had requested to oversee the hiring process himself. As part of the permanent White House staff, Bella had grumbled and scowled when she heard this news. That meant it would fall to her, and only her, to prepare just about everything for the President's arrival. He would be arriving at the White House at 8am sharp. Bella would make a point of being there to officially welcome him inside. _Warmly welcome him_, she emphasized to herself, _warmly_.

Stopping at a park bench to stretch out her hamstrings, Bella's thoughts turned to the President himself. Class valedictorian of The Bush School 1998 graduating class, captain of the swim and track team; Edward Cullen was a rising star from the very beginning. Accepted until nearly every university under the sun, he had chosen to follow in his father's footsteps and studied Law and Politics at Harvard. Again, he graduated top of his class in 2002 and joined the Democratic Party only a month later. After a six year term as a party member in Washington, Cullen had set his sights on a higher goal. He joined the Presidential campaign soon after. _The rest, as they say, is history_, Bella thought wryly to herself.

As she sprinted down the final hill of Archbold Parkway Park that marked the end of her morning run, Bella embraced her burning muscles and pushed against the image of Edward Cullen, pounding her trainers into the pavement as if she were pounding them into his stupid, goofy smirk.

**###**

"No, the President wants the redwood side table in his private study, not his bedroom!" Bella barked at the idiotic mover who was completely ignoring the list of finely detailed furniture placement instructions the President's campaign manager had sent through, along with his dietary requirements, exercise regime and list of jobs that needed to be completed before his arrival in less than one hour. Tapping her black Jimmy Choo pumps against the ground, Bella let out an exaggerated huff as the removalist ever so slowly transported the final box of personal items out of the moving truck.

"Finally!" she muttered under her breath as the last removalist clumped his big black boots out of the pristinely cleaned foyer. Pulling out her Blackberry she quickly dialled the Chief Usher.

"Ralph, it's Bella. Can you send a cleaner to the foyer ay-sap? The removalists have dragged a whole heap of dirt inside and the President's campaign manager will be arriving any moment now to oversee the President's arrival," she asked before listening to the Usher's response, "Thanks, Ralph."

Jasper Whitlock, the President's campaign manager, was a well-known Democrat from Seattle, who had relocated to Washington with the President in 2008. He had learned under Carlisle Cullen, the President's father, and had been partnered with the President Cullen ever since he had joined the party in 2006.

Jasper and Bella had accidentally met in person for the first time the previous day; a meeting which Bella regretted and was still embarrassed over, as a consequence of her less than accommodating behaviour. Lost in her musings, she turned a corner and ran smack bang into something. A hard something.

"Ow!" she exclaimed, cupping her throbbing forehead.

"Woah," came the twang of a deep Southern voice, "Are you alright there, miss?"

Looking up, her face flushing pink, Bella realized she hadn't run into something; she had run in to someone. Not only someone, but Jasper Whitlock. As ruggedly handsome as he was, the man was an ass by association. As the President's campaign manager, Jasper had hounded Bella repeatedly with emails and instructions for the President's imminent arrival. Her apologetic face merged into a scowl and the tightening around Jasper's eyes told her that he was no happier to see her, than she was to see him.

"Miss Swan," he said tersely. "How are you?"

"Fine, thank you Mr Whitlock," Bella replied, giving her forehead a rub. "I trust everything is as you requested?" she queried, sarcasm and disdain coating her words.

"Yes, Edward will be very pleased. I'm actually on my way to the West Wing, so if you don't mind," he replied before taking walking away from Bella.

She couldn't help but feel affronted by Jasper's brush-off and stilted reply; even if she knew she deserved it. Their first meeting hadn't exactly been pleasant.

"_I'm sorry, can I help you with something Mr. Whitlock?" she said primly; completing ignoring his statement and unspoken request to explain herself. _

_Jasper's face twisted into a confused frown. "I was wondering if I could have a word with you about-"_

"_No, I'm afraid you can't. I'm extremely busy at the moment." God, I'm such a bitch, Bella thought to herself. She would just email the information she had wanted to tell him. _

_Now his eyes darkened and his voice lowered. "Is there something I can clear up for you, Miss Swan?"_

_She let her expression remain blank, as if she were speaking at a press conference. "Let me assure you, Mr. Whitlock, there is nothing left to clear up. Everything is crystal," Bella replied before haughtily storming off to her car. _

Bella stared at Jasper's retreating back and sighed. He had begun walking towards the East Wing.

"Um, Mr. Whitlock?" Bella called, "The West Wing is this way," she said indicating in the opposite direction.

Jasper looked embarrassed and Bella sighed again. He clearly had no idea. "I was actually headed that way myself, would you like me to show you where everything is?"

He gave her a forced smile and nodded.

The silence between them as they walked was thick with tension and awkwardness. Bella knew she had earned her reputation as a hard-ass but she was a nice person, really. She did what she had to do to survive in the testosterone-dominated world of politics. How could she expect them to understand what she did was to protect herself?

She was relieved when they finally reached the end of the West Colonnade and entered the first floor of the West Wing. Desperate to fill the silence, Bella began the standard tour speech.

"So this is the first floor of the West Wing. Through that door," she said indicating right, "are the press; their briefing room, offices and kitchen." Rounding the corner, they reached her office, "This is my office and directly across here is the Cabinet Room." Indicating again to the right, "Down there is the Lobby and the main entrance," she said, "and of course down here is the Oval Office. The President's secretary has an office between Cabinet and the Oval Office." They rounded the corner and Bella pointed out the various rooms, "Through that wall is the President's private study and dining room, through that door is the Roosevelt Room, Senior Advisers and here," she said, stopping at the end of the corridor, "is the Chief of Staff's office. The Vice President and National Security Adviser are down the hall." They had stopped outside Jasper's office; the personalized sign on the door already claiming it as his.

"Thank you, Miss Swan," Jasper replied honestly as he reached for the door.

"Please, call me Bella," she said, sweeping stray strands of hair from her eyes. "If you have any questions, you know where my office is," she said, before turning and hurrying down the hall, desperate to escape Jasper's burning stare.

Walking inside his new office and closing the door behind him, it occurred to Jasper that maybe Isabella Swan wasn't so bad after all.

**###**

**A/N**: Thanks everyone for the amazing response I got from the last chapter :) Especially from the ladies at Twilighted who flooded my inbox after the prologue and chapter one went up last week. But sorry for the update fail – kind, lovely people wanted to wine and dine me for my birthday on Thursday and I just couldn't refuse!

I love the White House; it's my favourite part of the research for this story :) Bella's not really a hard-ass, she's just misunderstood. She likes Jasper and she's thinking he might not be that bad but trust me; this is no Jasper/Bella story.

I promise you, they will meet in the next chapter and in the chapter after that, we will find out why Bella hates Edward so much! This week the teaser is featured on my blog – if you head to my profile and click the 'BLOG' link it will take you straight there. I will try my best to reply to any questions or concrit I receive in reviews! Thank you so much again :)


	7. Chapter 6: Outtake

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

This chapter is full of information you need to know and I needed to hash out before we continuted on...

Thanks x infinity to **SweetVenom69** for her marvelous beta skills. Lots of love, bb! And also special props to **burntcore** and **lindyrb** for their assistance and political advice on this chapter! :)

**###**

_Six months earlier..._

"Edward, there's a phone call for you," Kate called from the door. Edward looked up from the hazardous emissions proposal on his desk to his faithful housekeeper.

"Who is it?" he asked.

"They didn't say, they were quite cagey."

Edward frowned. He had only relocated to Washington D.C. a few months ago, and with the current intensity of the election campaign, he had not been home much. His family and close friends knew to call him on his cell phone and, apart from those pesky telemarketers, he could not think of anyone who would have his new number.

Taking the cordless phone from Kate, he raised it to his ear. "Edward Cullen speaking."

"Mr. Cullen, thank you for taking our call," the voice on the other end replied.

Edward's curiosity grew. "_Our_ call? With whom am I speaking?" he asked curtly.

"Demetri Rossi and Marcus Finley, President of the United States."

_Holy shit_, was Edward's only thought as his jaw dropped and eyes widened.

"Good evening, Mr. Cullen," intoned an older, male voice that unmistakeably belonged to the current President.

"Good evening, sir. I mean, Mr. President," Edward stammered, still partially in shock.

"Before we begin, please let us preempt that this conversation is completely off the record and that we believe it to be in the best interests of both parties that the following remains completely confidential," said Demetri, the President's Chief of Staff.

After a pause, in which Edward realized they were waiting for him to reply, he managed to pull off a nonchalant, "Of course," while running through the hundreds of possibilities and scenarios in which the current President would contact his opposition and possible predecessor.

"Edward, I have a favor I need to ask of you," the President said slowly, but clearly. "I believe it is time for you to come good on our little agreement."

And with that, Edward's world fell off its axis. He could see his life crashing down around him and the walls around the secret he had worked so hard to protect, disintegrating to dust. The President could ruin everything for him, and his family.

Ignoring the rush of anger and the urge to jump the gun on whatever the President was about to ask of him, Edward swallowed the lump in his throat. "Go on," he said, his voice husky.

"Don't worry, Edward, I fully intend to uphold my side of the bargain. However, if you are to be successful in the upcoming election, which I don't doubt you will be, I request that you extend the employment of my current press secretary, Isabella Swan."

Edward waited for the punch line.

"That's it?" he scoffed. "You want me to hire your little press secretary when I take your job? Are you serious?"

"Let me assure you Edward, I am perfectly serious. Isabella Swan is quite possibly the finest in her field, and scoff all you like, but I entirely believe that she will thrive under your administration. She will be a great strength for your team and is completely professional about her work. I trust her, and so should you, to be utterly apolitical in her work," the President encouraged.

"Just her? Just your press secretary? What about Demetri? Or Jason?"

"They are more than happy to move on from politics with me, or onto the next generation in James Hunter."

"How do I know I can trust her? For all I know, she could be a mole and report back to Hunter and you. Is that your grand plan?" Edward demanded, raising his voice.

"Mr. Cullen," the President said sternly. "Miss Swan is a professional. I am a professional, as are you. You may not like it but I ask that you do not question me further. Have the distinction to trust me when I say that Miss Swan is not, never has been and never will, be a mole for myself or my party. What do you say, Mr. Cullen?"

Edward knew he was at an impasse. "What if I don't win?"

"Regardless of the result, if you agree, we shall speak no more of our arrangement. Your father's secret will no longer exist."

Edward ran his hand anxiously through his hair and at the mention of his father. Even at the cost of a possible dirty press secretary, his father's secret had to remain exactly that. Secret.

"I agree to those terms."

He heard the President sigh and his tone became more upbeat. "Thank you, Edward. You shall not regret this decision."

After listening to the dial tone for a minute, Edward put down the phone and collapsed back into his office chair. Groaning into his hands, he remembered that night that had put everything into jeopardy.

**###**

_2001_

"_And how are you liking your final year of studies, Edward?"_

"_Very well thank you, Mr. Finley. Classes are interesting and everyone is always up for a debate," he replied as they walked down the halls of Carlisle Cullen's offices._

"_Call me Marcus, Edward. I'm glad to hear it. I have fond memories of college," he said kindly._

_They reached the door of Carlisle's office, and being so engrossed in conversation, Edward flung it open without pausing to knock. _

_There were three simultaneous male gasps and one female shriek followed by the thud of a body hitting the floor. _

_Edward was frozen in shock as he took in the scene before him. He was barely aware of the President standing quietly behind him, but he was acutely conscious of his father, his happily married father, who was standing, stark naked, in front of him. He had jumped up from the leather armchair upon hearing the men enter, causing a similarly naked woman to tumble to the floor. _

_Carlisle was now standing, a cushion covering his loins, an expression of horror, shame and embarrassment covering his well-known and promoted features. His gaze was flickering from the faces of Edward and the President, the last two men he would have wished to come across him in this situation. _

_As they stood in shocked silence, staring at each other and processing the situation for a long moment, it was not until the President reached out and grasped his forearm that Edward felt disgust. His face twisting into an angry, hurt frown, he turned and stormed from the room. As he burst into the hallway, that he had just seconds ago been ignorantly walking along, Edward let out a breath he had not known he was holding. It was a long and shaky breath and his whole body shuddered as he inhaled again._

_His father. His own father was having an affair. _

_How could he? Why? A thousand questions bombarded his thoughts, before a single one emerged. One that was a thousand times more important than any other._

_His mother. _

_He could not imagine her hurt and heartbreak if she ever found out Carlisle had cheated on her. Family was everything to her, and he had shattered that. It would destroy her. _

_Edward was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he did not even register the President's presence beside him._

"_Edward," he said gently._

_He raised his head to look at Mr. Finley and several things clicked into place. _

_He had been in the room at the same time. He, the President of the United States, had seen his father, the Senator, screwing a random female. _

_He could ruin his father's career. He could ruin their family. His mother would know and her life would be ruined._

_He looked straight at Mr. Finley._

"_Anything," he said quietly. "Keep this quiet and I will do anything."_

_Mr. Finley looked at him carefully for several heartbeats, measuring him._

"_Okay," he replied. He reached out his hand to shake Edward's hand. Then he turned and walked down the hallway._

_They hadn't set any terms of the agreement in print and there weren't any formalities, but there was an understanding between the two men that encompassed so much more. Edward did not know if he could trust the President, but put faith in him was all he could do at that moment._

**###**

At last, the President had come to collect. Who knew what he was trying to do by securing the Press Secretary's job, but Edward could only presume that it wasn't good.

Now, Isabella Swan was an unknown factor. If he succeeded, she would become one of his closest colleagues, a person he needed to trust implicitly. _So,_ w_hat would her presence do in his administration?_

_**###**  
_

**A/N:** Thanks so much to everyone who has waited patiently for this chapter! I know, :( But you'll have this outtake tonight and in a couple of days I'll post the next chapter which is already finished and edited and ready to go! :)

Also, if anyone is interested, I posted my Twilight Gift Exchange piece for Demosthenes91. It's called '_Back of My Head_' and is a fluffy Christmas oneshot with a bit of Geekward ;) Have a look on my profile.

Thank you also to every single person who has reviewed, alerted and favorited YMP. It means the world to me and inspires to write! I hope you liked this and Bella's position in Edward's administration makes a little bit more sense.

Next chapter, they meet ;)

So, go and encourage the next chapter and press that gorgeous review button :)


	8. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Yes! The long awaited meeting :D I know, I've been cruel, but I hope this makes up for it :) Thanks a million to my beta, Karie (**SweetVenom69**), she is amazing!**

Bella took a deep breath. _I am going to be cordial and nice, I am going to be cordial and nice_, she repeated to herself.

"The Eagle has arrived, repeat, the Eagle has arrived," came the grainy voice from the walkie-talkie attached to shoulder of the security guard standing next to her. "Copy," he replied.

Bella took another deep breath. _Cordial and nice, cordial and nice_. She smoothed down the deep purple shirt she wore over her favorite knee-length black skirt. Resisting the urge to tug at the elbow length sleeves or play with the cord that formed a loose bow over her chest, Bella gripped her hands together tightly.

The black Chrysler stopped directly in front of the entrance. The House's doorman reached forward to open the backseat door. Bella felt as though she would be sick.

"Welcome to the White House, sir," the doorman offered as Edward Cullen stepped out of the car.

Wearing his signature Ray Ban sunglasses and a grey designer suit, he gave the House a cursory upwards glance and smiled. Bella fought the desire to roll her eyes and scowl petulantly.

After letting him take in the view for a few seconds, she was too antsy to wait any longer in silence.

"Good morning, Mr. President," she said, stepping forward and offering her hand, "Welcome to the White House."

"Thank you, Miss?" he replied, taking her hand. It was cool, and larger than hers. Bella emotionally blocked any feelings that she was sure her body would conjure from the simplest masculine touch. Instead, she focused on introducing herself.

"Miss Swan, Isabella Swan. I'm the White House Press Secretary. Normally there would be a larger gathering, but, as you requested, we have delayed renewing the former staff contracts for the time being. I would be more than happy to give you a tour or would you prefer to get settled?" she said, her tone all business.

Still taking in the enormity of the White House, the President was fastidiously ignoring Bella's proposal. Bella's demeanour grew exponentially terser as he continued to disregard her and gave polite nods to the men who had stopped work to watch the arrival of the new President.

"Edward!" came a happy call from behind Bella.

"Jasper!" was the equally joyous reply.

The two men shook hands and clapped each other on the back, greeting each other rambunctiously before discussing the President's arrival.

Bella took the opportunity to assess the President. Objectively, of course. He was tall; with heels, the top of her head would probably bump his chin. His utterly delicious chin. She couldn't deny that she had always been a bit of a sucker for facial structure. Bella's eyes followed his jutting jaw line; peppered with the roughness of new facial hair, as they lead up to the angular line of his cheekbone. Before her thoughts overwhelmed her, she quickly moved on from his face and dismissed all thoughts of appetizing facial structure. Someone so immoral didn't deserve to be blessed with such strong features, she contemplated crossly.

Giving him a head to toe glance with her critical, public relations trained eye she quickly found things that would need to be changed. The image of the President was a finely crafted and manipulated one, a man of such power and authority could not be seen looking 'average' or like he had just walked in from the streets.

His hair? Now that was going to be a problem. It just wasn't fitting for a President to present himself to the world looking like he'd just rolled out of bed. She made a mental note to arrange an appointment with the barber. It would be a shame though, his hair was long and tousled; a hint of red in the sunlight glancing off his dark brown locks.

Bella cleared her throat and looked pointedly at the men until they stopped talking and acknowledged her. "If you don't mind gentlemen, we have a very busy schedule to keep today," she said before gesturing towards the main entrance.

"Of course, Miss Swan. After you," the President said before indicating that she should enter first. Bella fought the urge to sneer at his perceived congeniality but clicked her heels angrily through the door before the men anyway.

Obviously the President wanted to forgo the tour, she concluded happily - she did not want to spend any more time with him than needed. As fate would have it, just as she walked inside, Ralph was walking out of his office. He had been extremely excited to meet the new President and despite Bella's personal feelings, she could not deny him this. As an afterthought, she realized that she was going to have to do a better job of putting her private opinions of the President aside if she was going to remain professional and employed.

"Ralph," she said with a happy smile for the older man, "let me introduce you to our new President."

Turning around, she ushered the President and Jasper over, "Gentlemen, our esteemed Chief Usher, Ralph Cummings. He can assist you with anything related to White House operations and services, if you require it."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Cummings," Jasper said as he shook Ralph's hand.

"Good morning, Mr. Cummings. I've heard a lot of good things about you," said the President, lifting his sunglasses from the bridge of his nose and sliding them into his hair. The kind, smiling tone the President used to address Ralph triggered a surprised glance from Bella. She looked up to his face and was struck with the full force of his gaze. Edward's eyes were a deep forest after a thunderstorm - a wide range of greens - but at the same time, so much more. She nearly lost herself as she tried to take notice of every detail, including the tiny fleck of gold in his left iris. His expression was interested but almost confused as well. It was as if he was looking at her...really looking at her.

Ralph saying something to Jasper snapped Bella from her haze. She fumed to herself. _He couldn't look at her like that. He didn't have the right._ She averted her eyes and compulsively checked her Blackberry for messages.

"Right then," she said, her tone louder than needed, "We've got a hundred and one things to do Ralph, so proper introductions will have to wait. Gentlemen, if you will."

Their next stop would be the President's living quarters, to give him a chance to get settled and refreshed before their 9am press conference. It would be a formal acknowledgement of the President's arrival and occupation of the White House, with no questions from the floor. Bella would have to run the President and Chief of Staff through standard procedures and general rules for dealing with the press beforehand.

A loud, chirping sound erupted from a phone and Bella glanced down to check if it was hers. It wasn't. She glanced back over her shoulder as she heard Jasper answer his phone. He offered an apologetic smile toward her and the President, before hurrying off to take the call. Bella nearly groaned. It had barely been twenty minutes into her day and she was already being left alone with the President.

"So Miss Swan," he said, jogging a few steps to catch up with her, "How did you come to work at the White House?"

She twitched reflexively at the jibe in his comment. _Why shouldn't she work at the White House?_ she wanted to ask. She had just as much right to be here as anyone else.

"I studied Communications and Media at university and then worked as a PR rep with the Boston mayor's office before moving here after I was offered a job at a small firm in Washington. I worked for a year before I was offered the job here. My university professor recommended me to the previous press secretary, who he was good friends with," she replied shortly.

She saw him nod silently from the corner of her vision; she refused to look at him and let herself be sucked in by his enticing features again. "And how did you become interested in politics?" she asked, although she very well knew the answer.

"I always loved watching my father at work growing up. It wasn't until I saw how much change he was able to effect, that I decided that this was what I wanted to do." It was the same stock answer he had given every reporter who had asked him over the course of his campaign.

"But, do you want to know something?" he went on. "When I was a kid, I used to imagine that I was the President and my stuffed toys were my people. I used to make them say silly things like 'Of course, Mr. President' and 'No, Mr. President. Yes, Mr. President,' just to see what it felt like," he said, sighing reflectively as he confessed to her.

"And how'd it feel?" Bella asked, slightly intrigued. This was definitely not part of his standard answer.

"Good," he replied, nodding and flashing her, what she believed to be, a genuine smile.

She couldn't help but smile back.

"So these will be your private quarters," Bella said as they walked into the West Sitting Hall. "In there is your personal dining room and kitchen," she said, pointing to the right, "and in here is the Master Bedroom, dressing room to the right, living room to the left."

The Master Bedroom was an exercise in over-decorating, a relic left over from a previous administration. Unfortunately, the last First Lady had enjoyed over the top tastes and had insisted that they remain. Bella only hoped that the President wasn't partial to gilded frames and butterflies and birds frolicking between bamboo sticks.

She laughed to herself when she saw his nose wrinkle in distaste, "We can always get someone to redecorate if you want, Mr. President."

"Is there an official decorator? If not, I'm sure my mom would love to come and work her magic in here," he replied.

"Well, it's up to you, Mr. President. You're the boss," she said.

Waiting as he walked around the room, opening cupboards and drawers, Bella wasn't sure what to make of his admission. The smitten smile that appeared when he talked about his mother encouraged the smirk playing at her lips while her heart warmed a little that he would be so thoughtful as to consider his mom.

"Although, are you sure you wouldn't prefer a professional designer? I know plenty who would be more than willing to..." she started.

The President gave her a slightly condescending smile, "My mother is a professional. She runs her own business. It's quite successful, you know," he said with another smirk that infuriated Bella. _Stupid smart ass_, she thought to herself, any warmth she had toward him evaporating.

Her Blackberry pinged with a reminder. There was only fifteen minutes until the first official press conference would begin and the President wasn't even remotely ready.

"Mr. President, your press conference is starting soon," she gestured to the bathroom, "Would you like to freshen up?"

He gave her a slightly bemused look and headed in to the bathroom. She followed him to the doorway and began her appropriate behaviour spiel.

"As you know sir, the White House, along with its government you represent, expects you to uphold its good name. Therefore, it would be wise not to engage in the following activities: excessive drinking, smoking is accepted but frowned upon, drug-taking, visiting questionable places, talking to questionable individuals, and engaging in questionable activities. As the President, you are not an exception to the law and are expected to follow it to your utmost. Any indiscretion will be assessed on a case by case basis, but in a worst case scenario, any action could signify the termination of your administration. Do you have any questions?"

He stepped into her view, a toothbrush in one hand and his lips flecked with toothpaste, "Uh...no?"

"Good, now during press conferences you will be provided with speeches that you should adhere to as they have been approved by the appropriate authorities of the government and your party. Questions from the floor will be limited and can be passed on at any time, should you feel uncomfortable. I gather that you are relatively aware of how to act during a press conference, but if there is something you want to ask, I suggest you do it now," she ended, her monotone concluding with an exhale.

Emerging from the bathroom while straightening his tie, the President smiled and shook his head. "Okay," Bella said, "we better be going."

"So then he said, 'I look forward to an enjoyable term with you all' before shaking their hands and introducing himself to each of them personally. I honestly thought that he was out of his mind. You give the reporters an inch and they'll take a mile. The nice guy approach hasn't worked for Presidents before him and I very much doubt that he'll be able to pull it off," Bella said, the supreme doubt in her voice undisguised.

"You don't think that you're presuming a little too much, do you?" her friend, Angela, asked tentatively.

"Ange," Bella said superiorly.

"I'm just saying, Bells," she replied.

Bella had met Angela on her first day in the White House; she had gotten lost looking for the flower shop and had ended up in the kitchen where Angela worked as a chef preparing meals for the President and his guests. Bella usually spent her lunch hours beside Angela's preparation bench, chatting about their lives and the goings on of the White House. Angela had recently got engaged to Ben Cheney, a lawyer who worked at Capitol Hill. He was a good guy who obviously made her very happy.

"Can you make it for drinks tonight?" Bella asked, "Rose is coming over."

"I'd love to, but Ben announced this morning that he's taking me out to dinner tonight," she replied, her eyes shining the same way they always did when she spoke of her fiancée.

"That's sweet." Bella smiled cheekily, "All the more for us then. Anyway, I better head back upstairs. See if the President wants me to pick the fleas out of his fur or something," she muttered angrily.

"Be nice, Bella," Angela warned before Bella poked her tongue out and strode from the room.

Just as she was making her way on to the West Colonnade, Bella's Blackberry began chirping her ringtone.

"Bella Swan," she answered.

"Miss Swan, it's Edward Cullen, the, um, the President, here. I was just going over the job application files that you gave me and I have questions. Is there any chance you could meet me? I don't mean..."

"It's fine, Mr. President, I'll see you in a minute," she replied before quickly disconnecting the call. How on earth did he get her number? She had conveniently forgotten to inform him of her contact details after they parted ways before her lunch break.

She considered feigning a sudden stomach bug, but decided to be mature about it and kept walking. _Breathe_, she told herself. _In and out_. Once she made it through this day, she could relax at home with her best friend, Rosalie, and too many drinks. Bella maintained the image of the potential drinks they would consume and how carefree they would make her as she rapped on the Oval Office door.

"Miss Swan, thank you for coming so soon," the President said, as he opened the door.

Bella nodded curtly. "What did you want to ask me about, sir?"

"I was wondering if I could get your insight into the previous employees, and some of the prospective ones as well," he said, reaching for a stack of manila folders she had placed on his desk. He sat upon the edge of the Resolute Desk and began reading.

"For the position of Communications Director, there are apparently three applicants. One who worked here under the previous government, another who has experience in another government department and the third who has no prior experience but received excellent recommendations from various college professors," he finished, looking expectantly up at her.

"The previous Director was doing a fine job, although I knew there were issues with the flow of work through the office. Apparently, he was quite disorganized and unable to properly operate several new forms of technology, which is quite important with the range of communications available nowadays..." Bella said, perching herself on the armchair of a couch, "The one with previous experience, where did they work?"

"Uh...," his eyes flicked down the page, "a small division of the Fair Trade Commission."

"The who?" she replied, having never heard of them before.

"I don't know," the President admitted.

"Well, what about the college graduate, where did they come from?"

"Fresh out of Brown," he replied.

Bella hummed, "Let me see his recommendations."

"_Her_ recommendations," the President corrected before passing over the file.

As Bella glanced over the glowing reports. She was surprised because they didn't often get many women working in the offices of the White House.

"These are impressive, but there's also an optional interview process, if you're so inclined, Mr. President," Bella said.

"Could you set up interviews for the second and third candidates then, Miss Swan?" he asked, sticking his hand with the files out while distractedly shuffling through another stack of paper.

Bella ground her teeth together at his audacity. She wasn't his servant, his mother, or his secretary. She didn't take orders from him. Not for this shit anyway. But she snatched them from his hands and seethed as she stuck them under her arm.

"Is there anything else?" she asked as politely as she could muster.

"Yes, there is actually," he said, turning back to face her, "For the position of personal secretary, I only have one application here. Surely that can't be right. There has to be hundreds of people who want to work in the White House with me," he said, throwing her a leery grin.

_Of course he would think that people should throw themselves at his feet, begging for the opportunity to serve his narcissistic ass,_ Bella thought, _of course he would_.

As much as she didn't want to admit it, the truth was, however, that people had pretty much done exactly that.

There had been a considerable number of applicants for the President's secretary position, but Bella had, with the assistance of Angela, screened ninety-five per cent of them. Of the seventy-five applications they had received, Bella had cut forty-five cougars with absolutely no secretarial experience, seventeen men who had experience in a variety of occupations that didn't include clerical work - making the girls suspect their motives, thirteen girls barely out of high school and two grandmothers whose intentions Bella didn't care to reflect on.

Bella couldn't believe how people could be so idiotic as to be attracted to the President. It was clear that no one actually wanted the job; they just wanted to perve and then some. But Bella wouldn't tell the President that. Oh no, they'd have to build a bigger house just to accommodate his inflated ego.

One of the remaining two applicants was from a 35 year old bachelor, who didn't seem to be attracted to the President, or carry any psychological maladies, or associated with any extreme political groups. Bella and Angela had hummed appreciatively when they had scoured his picture. He was a tall, olive-skinned Spaniard with shoulder length black hair and a sexy smile that positively screamed 'come hither'. They predicted that it wouldn't be too easy getting any work done with him around, but put his file on the top of the pile anyway.

The other applicant was a 25 year old woman with looks that made both Bella and Angela cringe into their insecurities. Tall, all legs, with long blond hair that framed her face perfectly. She had impeccably shaped eyebrows and a precisely made up face. She had listed her relationship status as taken and her tertiary education institute as Yale. With 7 years experience as a personal secretary for a well-known, local businessman, she was the perfect woman for the job. Conspiratorially, the women had decided it was best for this file to somehow mistakenly end up in the rejected pile.

"Are you sure there aren't any more applications?" the President asked, rising to his feet.

_He was doubting her? Oh, that was rich,_ she silently fumed.

"None that were appropriate, sir," she replied blithely as she stood to leave.

"I'd like to see the rest."

"They aren't appropriate for your viewing."

"I would still like to see them."

The tension in the air between them was palpable. The President could see Bella's anger written all over her face at being questioned over something so trivial and Bella could, just as equally, see the President's determination not to be defied.

"Miss Swan..." he began, his tone more suitable to reasoning with a small child.

"Fine," she snapped and stomped into the secretary's accompanying office. She pulled all seventy-three files from their box and walked over to his desk, slamming them down in front of him.

"Here you go, all seventy-three files for your reading pleasure. Excuse me sir, but I have more important things to attend to, other than reading through job applications, for a second time. Good day," she said curtly before striding out of the Oval Office.

_Stupid, pompous ass. He's a really fine example of the throwback to our ape ancestors. I hate him_, Bella thought as she stormed the quick distance to her office, slamming the door behind her.

Even though she knew she should be grateful, he was the reason she was here, with a job after all, but his generosity meant nothing to her. Not when she knew what she did about his past.

Plonking herself down in the black leather chair, Bella sighed. He was not worth her time, nor anger; not here anyway. She closed her eyes, inhaled deeply and let all thoughts of the President drift from her mind.

When she was calm, she opened her eyes and looked around her office. Here was her sanctuary, her haven amidst the bustle of the West Wing politics. It was small, but it was hers. Rich, brown walls wrapped around the office and supported the various relics from years gone by that Bella had sentimentally left as they were. There was an American flag and an original architectural plan of the White House to the right and left of her desk, but her favourite piece was a portrait of President John F. Kennedy in a heavy gilded frame. President Kennedy had been an inspiration to Bella ever since her first, freshman American History class some years ago.

Slipping off her Jimmy Choos and crossing her legs underneath her, Bella powered up her computer. There was a long-winded email from her mother in Jacksonville and a brief message from Rose, telling her she would be over around seven for drinks. Clicking on her work email, she rocked back and waited as all five hundred and forty-five emails loaded. It didn't help that she was forwarding about twenty email accounts to her own while the President took his own sweet time choosing a personal staff; as if she need another reason to hate him.

**A/N:** So, what did you think? How did you like Edward through Bella's eyes? The next chapter will reveal the reason behind her hate and hopefully everything will make a bit more sense :)

Your homework this week is to tell me in your review an interesting fact that you know about the White House/Presidents in general/the American government that I might be able to weave into my future chapters. (And I'm happy if it's just something you saw on The West Wing) Now, if you're not American/familiar with their system, tell me something about your own government that I might be able to use :)

For all those who leave an interesting fact, I will link up your profile on my profile and my blog so people can read your stories or if you're not a writer, let me know a story that you want to recommend and I'll put up the link for it. And when I use your interesting fact, I'll mention you in my A/N as inspiration for the chapter :) Class dismissed! x


	9. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**I may be no good at American geography, but my superbeta SweetVenom69 sure is! Thanks a million bb!**

**Alright, you asked for it...**

**###  
**

_You're so vain; I'll bet you think this song is about you. Don't you? Don't you?_

With Carly Simon turned up as loud as she could go, Bella spun around her kitchen, cocktail in one hand and a knife in the other, dancing and singing along to the words.

"Hey gir- Hey! Watch where you're throwing that knife around," Rosalie said as she walked into Bella's house, grabbing Bella's wrist and removing the knife from her grasp before she did someone serious damage.

"What are you thinking, woman? You know how you get with the sharp shit!" she said, frowning at Bella who was in the process of draining her glass. "How many have you had?" she demanded, snatching the glass with her other hand.

"God, Rose, when did you turn into my mother? I've just had a bad day, that's all," Bella replied flippantly.

"Aw, baby," she clucked. "That bad, huh?"

"And worse!" Bella wailed as she walked through to her lounge room and flopped down on her couch. Rose sat down next to her and rubbed her shoulder.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I'll need another drink first," she replied, pouting. Rose laughed and walked into the kitchen to prepare her another cocktail.

Bella leaned against the arm of her chair, cupped her chin and looked out her big glass windows. The view out of her house on the hill was magnificent. She could see all the way out over the Potomac River and beyond.

"Here you go, love," Rose said, passing her a homemade cosmopolitan.

"Yum, thank you," Bella replied, watching as Rose settled back into the couch opposite her.

Rosalie had been her best friend ever since they had shared Barbies the summer of 1987 while playing in Charlie's front yard. Rosalie and her parents had lived in Forks, Washington, just one street over from Bella's father, Charlie Swan. After Rosalie's mother ran off with a younger man, Charlie and Rosalie's father, Richard Hale, bonded over beers and football while Bella and Rosalie were thrown together to entertain themselves.

After that first summer when Bella returned to her mother in Phoenix, the girls wrote to each other faithfully, sharing their triumphs, stories and elementary school paintings; each eagerly awaiting their summer reunion. As each summer came and went, they grew closer and everyone commented on their inseparable companionship.

The summer before her senior year of high school, when Bella announced that she intended to move to Boston to study at Boston University after she graduated. That final year Rose barely left her bedroom as she worked hard to achieve a high enough GPA to get into Law at Boston with Bella. In Boston, the girls rented a house together close to campus and enjoyed two years of good, drunk, and broken-hearted times before Rosalie announced that she had won an academic scholarship at Harvard University. She had also been offered a room on-campus as part of the scholarship; it was an opportunity to save on expenses that she could not pass up.

Bella still seethed when she thought about the 2am phone call she had received from a sobbing Rosalie several months later.

After listening to Rosalie's incoherent sobs and hiccups for half an hour, Bella jumped on the next train across town to pick up the pieces of her broken best friend.

"_Rose! Rosalie!" she cried as she ran down the dormitory. She knew it was nearly 5am but she didn't care who she woke up, her best friend was in trouble. She looked down at the scrap of paper that was crackling in her trembling hands. 371, 371, 371. Finally she found the door with Rose's pink cursive on the message board. Pushing it open, she called out softly again._

_The room was dark, papers and clothes upturned everywhere. Bella could hear the faint murmurs of an orchestra play the opening notes of Celine Dion's 'My Heart Will Go On' and her heart tightened. Watching Titanic would not be helping Rosalie's heartache. Making her way towards the music, Bella stepped inside Rose's room. _

"_Oh, Rosie," she murmured as she struggled to make out her friend in the dark. Rosalie was curled up under her duvet, dabbing at her tears as she watched Jack disappear into the ocean depths. She was surrounded by hundreds of twisted and scrunched tissues, the piles increasing as she reached for a new one regularly. _

_Dropping her bag by the door and climbing on to Rosalie's bed, Bella laid down next to her best friend. Rosalie turned her back on the movie's main character's frantic whistle blowing and stared pitifully at Bella. _

"_He just left."_

"_What do you mean?"_

"_I told him, and he just..." she sobbed, "left me!"_

"_Ssshh," Bella soothed, "Tell me everything."_

_Rosalie nodded sadly as fresh tears welled in her eyes._

"_I saw him my first day here. I asked this girl in my class about him. He's the son of a well-known, wealthy businessman and he was dating this girl named Irina. He was in my Criminal Law class and he sat next to me. He gave me the cutest smile and I literally went weak at the knees, Bells. He kept staring at me all class and afterwards he asked if I wanted to go for coffee. You know my rules. I never accept a date unless it's more than 24 hours in advance, so I said no. You could tell no one had ever said no to him before. He was so surprised and affronted. Admittedly, if I didn't put so much faith in my rules I would have found it hard to refuse. I saw him the next day in class again – I looked smashing – and he asked me out to dinner that night. It wasn't 24 hours notice, so I said no again. He looked so frustrated, but I didn't want to lose him, so I told him that I was free the next night. We went out and I had such a great time, everything just felt right. We waited until the end of the night to broach the subject of his girlfriend. He hadn't mentioned her and I heard their relationship was on the rocks. He said it was complicated but he didn't love her anymore," she sighed. _

_Bella reached over and rubbed her arm sympathetically._

"_He kissed me goodnight after dinner. After that, we went out nearly every weekend. To places where no one else would see us, I guess. We dated for about three months, before things started to get serious. He said he was only with Irina because his parents were friends with her parents and everyone expected them to get married. But he wanted more, he wanted me, he said. He called me one day to announce that he had broken it off with her, in front of their families, and that his father had thrown him out of the house for being so rude. He came over and I was just so happy that we were finally official, that when things started getting heated, I didn't stop. We had sex. He didn't use a condom and I wasn't on the Pill," she said, tearing up._

_Bella felt tears starting to prick at the corners of her own eyes, "Did he...?"_

"_No, no. I wanted it. But I guess he thought I was on the Pill and I didn't even think about whether he was using a condom. It just felt so right. About a month ago, I realized my period was late and I was away from class all week because I was sick. He was so supportive, bringing me soup and making me feel better. It didn't occur to me until I was watching the Bold and the Beautiful one day that I might be pregnant." _

_Bella felt the blood drain from her face. Her eyes flickered down to Rosalie's stomach. Not _her_ Rosalie, she was only twenty years old. She couldn't be pregnant. She gulped. Everything made sense now. _

"_Did you tell him?"_

_Rosalie nodded. "He was here earlier. We were about to go out to the theatre. I sat him down and told him." Her eyes misted over and it was if she was reliving the previous conversation. "We're finally together. We're in love. This is happening so fast, but it just feels so right. I'm pregnant," she said, her voice distant and soft. "But then he started yelling at me about how I was messing up his life, how I had to get rid of it. I thought he loved me. I thought he loved _us_." The sobs were coming hard and fast now, and Bella wrapped her arms around Rosalie. _

"_What's his name? I'm going to kick his ass," Bella said as Rosalie convulsed in her arms._

"_Edward," she bawled, "Edward Cullen." _

Rosalie looked her out of the corner of her eye, catching Bella's eye.

Bella looked at her solemnly and Rosalie's hand moved of its own accord to rub her stomach. Rose had lost the baby at 5 months. The trauma of giving birth to the deceased baby she had to carry for a further week had ripped apart her uterine wall to the point of disrepair. The doctor had told her it wouldn't be possible for her to ever carry a child full-term.

"Was it really that bad?" she asked quietly.

"Of course. How could I look him in the eye knowing what he did to you? He has no idea," she whispered fiercely, a tear slipping from the corner of her eye.

The sun setting across the river created shards of light that refracted around the white kitchen and family room as the girls silently mourned the baby they had loved with their whole hearts and the innocence they had lost because of Edward Cullen.

**###**

After sitting in silence and shedding their tears, Bella reached across the coffee table and held her hand out to Rosalie. She grasped it with her own and they gave each other a loving smile.

"Want to get drunk?" Bella asked.

"Hell, yeah," replied Rosalie with a hoarse laugh.

**###**

The rich aroma of freshly ground coffee beans evaded Bella's senses as she slept. Sitting up quickly in her bed, she gripped the side of her head which spun from the too quick motion. She groaned and slowly kicked her feet free from her duvet. She padded downstairs to where she could hear Rosalie humming along with the radio in the kitchen.

"You are way too cheery for this early in the morning," Bella muttered as she sat down at the breakfast bar.

"Good morning to you too, sunshine," chirped Rosalie as she poured Bella a mug of coffee.

"Why did you let me drink so much? You know I have work today," Bella whined.

"If I do remember rightly, it was _your_ idea to get drunk last night, not mine," she replied, cocking her eyebrow at Bella.

"Ugh," was Bella's only response as she sipped at her searing coffee.

"So what are you going to do about it?" Rosalie asked tentatively.

"About what?" Bella muttered in reply.

"Him. Edward Cullen."

"What can I do about him?"

"I don't know. You're the one who was a hot mess last night after you spent the day with him."

"What?" she gasped. "I was not in a _hot mess_, Rosalie Hale!"

She rolled her eyes, clearly doubting Bella's overly defensive demeanour.

"Don't give me that look! How could you think that I would like someone like him?"

"Hey, I said nothing," she replied, throwing her hands in front of her.

"I don't..." she stuttered. "I just don't know how you could think that, Rose!"

Rosalie gave her a dismissive wave. "Well, I've got to go. I've got to be in court for 8:30."

"Knock 'em dead," Bella smiled, their disagreement forgotten, as Rose turned to leave.

"You know it!" she called back over her shoulder.

As the front door clicked shut, Bella was left to her thoughts and coffee. Rosalie was so wrong. After the President's first day in office, she could tell that everything she'd heard had been true about the womanizing, egotistical bastard.

After that dark night, Bella had sworn, that as long as she lived, she would hate Edward Cullen. And so it would be.

**###**

**A/N: **Don't shoot! ::hides behind kangaroo::

Thanks to everyone who shared their Presidential/Government knowledge in the reviews last week, I'm going to try and include most of the facts that you all shared! It means the world to me.

So, what do you make of our President Cullen now? Do you think Bella was justified in her hatred? Let me know...


	10. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer:****All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

...hi guys. I know it has been a terribly long time but I just wasn't happy with what I had for this chapter and I struggled to get back on track. But now I feel a lot better about this chapter and where we're headed in the next couple :) Thanks so much to my comma guru girl, **SweetVenom69**. Your help is so appreciated. Enjoy.

**###**

On her way to the White House, with her trusty coffee cupped in her hand, Bella mentally organized herself for the morning. She had a morning appointment with Jasper Whitlock and the President to discuss some preliminaries for the new administration, but as everyone was still settling in, there was not a lot of press-related issues for her to do. 

As she arrived at the White House, she was greeted by so many new faces that it was disconcerting. She had only worked for one administration and was used to the familiarity of knowing names, positions and agendas. However, now she was a stranger among the President's men, and she couldn't help feel out of place. It occurred to her that she had more to do than she had initially thought – there were people to meet, names to remember; she had to make herself known to these people who were now her colleagues. 

She exchanged nods with several people as she made her way to her office and began mentally prioritizing the people that she would need to make herself familiar with; the Vice-President, the Security Adviser, the new Councils and the Senators who were serving their first terms. She exhaled a long breath as her workload began to stack up. 

It was moments like this that reminded Bella that she was still new to this world, and that the experience she had gained over the past two years was nothing in comparison to the multiple decades that the new administration represented. 

Momentarily lost in thought, she grabbed her notepad and pen and hurried to the President's office for their meeting. The Chief of Staff opened the door after her knock and she thanked him nicely; she was trying to be on her best behaviour after all. Then she spotted the President, and the tumultuous emotions simmering beneath her skin began to bubble as she tried in vain to brush away memories of the previous night. 

"Mr President," she greeted him, doing her best to remain neutral. She imagined herself in front of a press conference, and gradually, she felt her emotions dissipate, and her control over the situation build. 

"Miss Swan," he replied, his tone equally detached. 

Jasper clapped his hands together, wanting to move past the obviously awkward moment between his friend and the seemingly moody Press Secretary. 

"Alright!" he exclaimed. "Edward's informed me that he's chosen someone for the position for Communications Director and needs to arrange meetings with two of the applicants for the personal secretary position. Would you mind arranging the interviews for all three, Miss Swan?" 

Jasper was deliberately cautious with his words and manner, Miss Swan's temper was something he wanted to avoid with a ten foot pole. But she seemed to take his request in stride, nodding blithely and taking the prospective employees' files with a small smile. 

On the inside, however, Bella was struggling to bite back a smart remark. It wasn't her job to run the President's errands, and surely with all these people from his administration arriving, there was someone else who could ring up and arrange the interviews. But she remained professional. She would remain professional in front of Jasper Whitlock, and she would not let the President see how much he affected her. She told herself this, and after a couple of calming breaths, she felt back in control. 

"I will see to these this morning. The positions will need to be filled as soon as possible," she said with a nod. She turned to face the President. "The White House event planners have requested a quick meeting for your final go-ahead for the formal dinner tomorrow night, sir." 

He nodded in agreement. "When would they like to see me?" 

His brusque reply made Bella cringe. He surely hated her after the way she had treated him, and while he may be warranted in his response, part of her wished he didn't. The other part was pissed at him for being so judgmental. Her anger was justified, but he probably didn't even know why he hated her. Again, she felt the vicious emotion beneath her skin. _Calm down_, she told herself. _Now is not the time, nor the place_. 

"They'll be in all day, so if you let me know when you're free, I could arrange a meeting," she replied. 

"Thank you," the President said, looking Bella in the eyes for the first time. His green eyes were darker than she remembered and a certain tiredness was evident. Yesterday, there had been an excited spark, but today there was a touch of doubt dimming the flame. 

Bella offered him a small, honest smile. She felt sorry for him. 

But then she remembered Rosalie and her mask snapped back into place. "Was that all?" 

The President looked at Jasper and nodded. "I'm free for the moment, Miss Swan. Perhaps we can meet with the event planners?" he questioned. 

Bella pursed her lips, she had planned other things for the morning, but, of course she would clear her schedule for the President and his biddings. Letting her overly sarcastic inner voice run wild in her mind was the least she could do while she did everything she could to prevent the words from tumbling unrestrained from her lips. 

"Okay," she said shortly. 

Jasper was first to reach the door and opened it for Bella and the President cordially. "I'll be in my office if either of you need me," he said, smiling kindly at Bella before strolling off in the direction of his office. 

Again, Bella sighed internally. She was being left alone with the President, again. 

"The event planners have an office in the East Wing," she said for the sake of saying something as they walked in silence. 

In her periphery, she saw the President nod. 

She sighed again. She couldn't pretend it didn't hurt that he was so quick to judge her. But then she was angry that he didn't even try to understand why she had reacted the way she did to him yesterday. And to top it all off, she was mad at herself for caring. Mad at herself for being hurt and mad because she shouldn't want him to understand. 

Bella was a whirlwind of emotions as she led the President through the winding corridors and lavish rooms of the White House. 

She couldn't discern where one feeling began and another ended. She felt like she was suffocating under the weight of everything. 

"How long did it take you to get your bearings here?" 

It took Bella a moment to realize that the President had spoken. She had been lost in her own thoughts, not expecting him to speak to her as they walked. 

"Sorry, what?" 

The President quickened his stride to walk in step with her, and repeated himself. 

"Oh, after you get lost a couple of times, you learn quickly enough. People will be more than willing to help you out," she said with a smile. 

The President nodded again after a quick smile of thanks in her direction. 

They walked on in silence. 

Bella looked at the man walking beside her. She watched, but without obviously staring at him. 

He was walking with confidence, but not cockiness. He was matching her steps perfectly as they strode side by side. One hand was shoved in his suit pants pocket and the other one swung slightly as he moved. His shoulders were hunched ever so slightly and Bella wondered if he had slept that night. His head was looking every which way as he took in the sights of the White House. He peered into rooms and gazed at the ceilings with the curiosity of a little boy. Bella found it adorable. 

She looked away hurriedly as she realized how she was feeling. 

But his aura was magnetic. Her gaze was drawn back to him as he gently ran his fingertips over the gilded edge of a painting's frame. His face was turned away from her, but she could clearly see his jaw and its extended line down his neck. Bella had never quite seen a jaw like it, and as well as his pointed cheek bones; it was quite possible that the President had the best facial structure she had ever seen. 

_This was allowed, right?_ she thought to herself. _I'm allowed to look; it wasn't like I'm going to touch. Plus, it is in my natural instincts to look for and identify males with preferable features. I'm a member of the human race and to ensure that my offspring have the best chance of surviving natural selection, I have to mate with the male with the most ideal features._

_Oh God_, she groaned mentally. _I'm using high school biology to justify my urge to perv_. 

Before she could make any more justifications on Darwinian Theory, she realized that they had reached the event planner's office. 

"This is it," she called to the President who had wandered past the door. Bella went to knock on the door, but before she could, it was opened by Ashley, the White House's event planner. The thirty-something exuberant woman with a mop of curly red hair had been one of the first people Bella had met on the job, and they had become fast friends. 

"Bella!" she exclaimed, grabbing Bella into a tight hug. 

"How are you, Ashley?" Bella replied with a happy smile. 

"Good, good. Where have you been all this time? I haven't seen you in ages," Ashley gabbled until she laid eyes on the President standing in the doorway. She stopped abruptly, her mouth mid-way through forming her next word. 

Bella spun around, pinched Ashley's side subtly and introduced her to the President. She recovered quickly from her daze and sprung into action, telling the President about her plans for the upcoming formal dinner. 

Bella watched silently from the door, and when the President turned to her with a bewildered smile on his face while Ashley excitedly explained seating and entertainment, she laughed silently. She could understand the overwhelming feeling of Ashley's presence. She could feel her eyes crinkle as her smile reached her eyes and they shared a chuckle unbeknown to the happily babbling Ashley. 

As Ashley tugged the President to each of her presentation boards, Bella took another opportunity to observe him. 

He was good-looking. She couldn't deny it. In addition to the gorgeous bone structure, his uncombed chocolate brown hair and gorgeous green eyes were the icing on a very delectable looking cake. His pink lips framed a full set of straight, white teeth as they were pulled this way and that into various expressions as he listened intently to Ashley. 

Bella watched as he twisted his lower lip between his teeth as he studied the pictures, leaning in closer to get a better look. The set of his eyes and the way his brows knitted together told her that he was trying to understand something. When he did, he nodded and pulled a half smile before moving onto the next part of the event's organization. His whole expression was light when he smiled and laughed at something funny Ashley pointed out. He was beautiful. 

_Shit_. 

Bella snapped out of her reverie and began tracing her thoughts backwards. _Beautiful, funny, smile, trying to understand, teeth, lips, eyes, hair_. She turned away from her spot on the doorframe and leaned back against the wall, out of the President and Ashley. Her chest heaved as she tried to contain the torrent of emotions flooding her thoughts. 

For the past six years she had hated Edward Cullen with every bone in her body. She had harboured rage, aggression and fury against him for what he had done to Rosalie. She had sworn that she would never forgive him, that she would never like him. 

But she had known him for two days and all it had taken was a few off-hand comments and a bit of genetic luck for her resolve to think twice. There was already a small part of her that held some sympathy for him. Another part, located right beside her ovaries, that was screaming at her to make beautiful babies with him. And another part that she felt right in her heart, stealthily working on conjuring up emotions that she didn't want to think about feeling. 

Bella closed her eyes. She had been ruled by her head for so long that the emotional ambush had caught her off guard. She just needed a moment to regain control, and to quash those traitorous parts of her psyche. 

"Miss Swan?" 

The President's voice startled her and Bella gasped, her eyes flashing open and her hand flying to her chest. 

He was looking at her with a bemused smile. She wondered how long he had been standing there as she composed herself quickly. 

"Thanks, Bella," Ashley said from her office door. "I'll send you an update later. Mr President, it was lovely meeting you. I'll see you tomorrow night," she said with a playful smile. 

Bella ushered the President back down the way they had come earlier and shot Ashley a pointed look over her shoulder. Ashley was watching them walk away and shrugged back at Bella, a cheeky smile painting her face. Bella rolled her eyes and continued walking with the President back to the West Wing. 

**###**

After calling the new Communications Director and the two applicants for the personal secretary position in order to arranger their interviews, Bella decided to take a walk around the West Wing and try to introduce herself to her new colleagues. She took a deep breath and steeled herself; she could do this. 

First she wandered through the lobby and toward the Vice-President's office. The President's right hand man would be definitely someone she needed to know and be on side with. Perhaps she could go through him to avoid the President, Bella plotted as she walked. There would be less repeat incidents of the morning if there was someone between them, taking any communications and passing on her observations and plans to the President. 

She smiled as her idea began to take shape as she knocked on the Vice-President's door. A tall, muscular Native American man opened the door and smiled a brilliant smile at Bella. She was momentarily speechless as she stared at the handsome man with short black hair and tanned skin. 

"Hi," he said, after it became apparent that words had escaped the woman standing in his doorway. 

His words brought back her senses and she arranged her face in a polite smile and stuck out her hand. 

"Hi, I'm Bella Swan, the Press Secretary." 

"Jacob Black, the Vice-President," he replied, shaking her hand and offering her an enchanting smile. Again, Bella nearly lost herself as he took her hand and his smooth, large hand slid against hers. 

He gave her an expectant look after a beat of silence. Bella blushed and began forming her sentence before random words came tumbling out of her mouth. 

"I just thought I'd come and introduce myself as we'll be working quite closely together in the future," she said carefully. 

Did she imagine it or did his eyes shine and crinkle happily when she said they'd be working closely? Bella hoped her face wasn't giving away her clear delight at the same sentiment quite so obviously. 

"Well come in, Miss Swan, and we'll get to know one another," Mr Black replied, opening up his door wider and gesturing for her to enter. 

"Please, call me Bella," she insisted with a genuine smile as she entered his office. Using the attractive Jacob Black as an intermediary between the President and herself was the best idea she had had in a long time. 

**### **

Most of the new administration had left at five that evening and Bella had heard them talking about meeting up for drinks to celebrate their first day. She was still busy with press reports and schedules for the upcoming week, not that she had needed the excuse. No one had stood in her doorway and asked her if she would join them. 

While she had tried to introduce herself and make connections with her new colleagues, no one had been particularly forthcoming. She had managed a few minutes with each of the major players but then each of them had cited various excuses to leave. Maybe she was being paranoid, but she couldn't help but think that someone had been speaking badly about her. 

There was, however, Jacob Black who had been very kind and engaging. They had spoken for forty-five minutes about his position, general party business and some of their new workmates. Bella had also hinted at the idea that he would act as her spokesperson to the President, telling him that his predecessor had been an excellent channel for voicing the opinions of her office. He looked puzzled momentarily but seemed to accept her words without complaint. 

Bella was extremely relieved. The less time she spent with the President, the better – especially after the incident in the East Wing that morning. She couldn't explain what she felt towards him, whatever it was. Hopefully if she kept away, she could go back to hating him and not worrying about her conflicting emotions. 

A knock on her open door interrupted her report writing. She looked up in surprise; she thought she was relatively alone in the West Wing. But there stood the President. 

"Hey," he said quietly. 

"What are you doing here?" Bella replied. When she realized how rude she sounded and remembered that she was still trying to be civil towards the man, her face softened. 

"Sorry," she muttered. 

He laughed. "I live here now." 

She nodded and murmured in agreement. She sat back in her chair and looked at him curiously. 

"Can I come in?" he asked, gesturing to the leather chair in front of her desk. 

"Oh. Sure." Bella wasn't sure this was a good idea, but she was feeling a little too forlorn to be snappy or bitchy to someone who appeared to actually want to engage in a conversation with her. 

He sat down in the chair in front of her and looked directly at her. They both watched each other in silence for a minute. 

"How was your day?" Bella asked him, desperate to fill the void that was threatening to expose her. 

"Good, really good. I haven't slept much, but I guess it is part of the job. How was yours?" he replied. 

"Trying." 

He looked at her, waiting for her to go on. It was against her better judgement to complain to someone she barely knew, even more so to someone she disliked, but as he kept on waiting for her to open up to him, she caved. 

"I don't think that your people like me very much," she said, cringing as she realized how narcissistic she sounded. 

He raised an eyebrow. She scowled angrily. 

"I don't know what these people have heard about me, and I'm trying not to care, but if it's going to affect how well I do my job, then they're all going to hear about it! I'm a professional and I'll be damned if I let rumours and lies get me fired," she said heatedly. 

The President had been trying to keep himself from looking too surprised or guilty as Bella ranted. He had heard the rumours about her, truth be told, but he had tried not to let it get in the way of their respective jobs. 

Bella sighed and shook her head. "Sorry, I didn't mean to..." 

"No, it's okay," the President replied. "I don't want petty rumours to interfere with the integrity of this institution. I'll speak to my party members and make sure this kind of thing doesn't happen again," he said, frustration, and then determination, marking his words. 

"You don't have to do that. I can handle it," Bella tried to say, but the President wouldn't listen. 

"No, I won't stand for it. If there's a problem in my administration, I'm going to fix it," he said firmly. And for several reasons, both known and unknown to her, Bella believed him. 

"Thank you," she murmured, averting her eyes. 

"Miss Swan," the President went on, hesitantly this time. "I was just wondering about something you said... Well, it's not so much as what you have said, it's just..." 

Bella felt her vital organs metaphorically stop working. Her heart leapt into her throat, and she could feel a blush begin to creep up her neck. He was going to ask her why she hated him, she knew it. He was looking at her curiously as he tried to frame his words so as not to offend her, she guessed. She bit down hard on her lip and prayed for the ground to swallow her up. She did not deal with this type of confrontation well. 

Suddenly, her cell phone began chirping, and Bella faked an emergency as Rosalie asked her whether she wanted to go out for dinner that night. 

"Okay, honey, calm down. Don't move your ankle just in case it's broken. I'll be there as soon as I can," she said, faking a concerned tone. 

"Sorry, I've got to go," she said to the President, deliberately avoiding his penetrating, questioning gaze before grabbing her bag and jacket and running out of her office, her face burning bright red. 

Edward was left sitting alone, feeling considerably more confused than when he had entered Miss Swan's office. He sat thinking about Isabella Swan, her peculiar mood swings, why he was so drawn to her and why she always made him feel so...so comforted in her presence. He continued to stare down the hallway which she had fled down and wondered. 

**### **

What do you think? Things are certainly warming up now. Next chapter we'll be peeking into Edward's head ;)

Now, a couple of things you all should know. One, soon I'll be featured on the Twilight Awards website in their Fics Under the Radar feature. You can find them at TwilightAwards on Twitter, they send out regular tweets about the fics they're featuring. Two, my friends and I are currently hosting a contest! The Breaking Dawn Screenplay Challenge is for those who think they can write the BD script better than dear MR. Head over to the profile page (www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net(slash)u(slash)2213534(slash)The_BD_Screenplay_Challenge) and check us out! We're so excited to read what you guys want to see in Breaking Dawn :)

Drop me a review and I will see you guys in a week!


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